


Motivation

by Vae



Category: Lucifer Box - Gatiss, Torchwood
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-02
Updated: 2010-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vae/pseuds/Vae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Charles Jackpot and I found ourselves dispatched to Cardiff - Cardiff, of all places, some desperately inadequate attempt at civilisation in a barbarian country inhabited by a short dark people of indeterminate sex - there really was very little in the scenery to stimulate my imagination</p>
            </blockquote>





	Motivation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for queenspanky on the occasion of her rather splendid birthday. With thanks to Terryl for the quick beta check. Any remaining mistakes are mine own.

Those who have met me will own that I am, primarily, visually motivated. It is, after all, a necessary quality for those of my profession. What good would a portraitist be if he could not appreciate the sublime tilt of a chin, the smooth line of a perfect nose, the delicate play of light over porcelain skin and the ripe tempting curve of a robust and healthy buttock?

Very little, I'm sure you agree.

However, when Charles Jackpot and I found ourselves dispatched to Cardiff - Cardiff, of all places, some desperately inadequate attempt at civilisation in a barbarian country inhabited by a short dark people of indeterminate sex - there really was very little in the scenery to stimulate my imagination. I suppose, therefore, I might be excused (as of course I should be, any charming and attractive gentleman such as myself should be excused all manner of faults) for overlooking my contact until he spoke.

"Captain Jack Harkness, and this is very _definitely_ my pleasure."

I can only imagine that he had been given my description by Sir Joshua, and since I was the tallest and most elegant gentleman in the square, my fine hands protected by tailored gloves and my luggage somewhat sulkily portered by Charlie, it was natural that he should approach me. Though dear lord, that _voice_. JR had neglected to mention that Captain Harkness was an _American_.

Still, needs must when the devil drives, and the devil had driven us into a land of Celts. An American was, for once, an improvement. "Lucifer Box," I informed him, extending a hand in his direction. "I believe you are expecting us."

"At your service." The man paused, sent a decidedly lascivious glance at Charlie, and then turned it upon me. Perhaps Wales could, after all, offer visual stimulation. Despite the horrendous arrogance apparently common to all his countrymen, Captain Harkness was far from being unappealing. Tall, broad, inclined to smile (showing far too many teeth, also in the manner of his countrymen), with rough dark hair and eyes of pure cerulean blue. And an excellent handshake, in the moment before he bowed over my hand.

It was at that point that I determined Captain Harkness would, indeed, be at my service. My very personal service. The point where his military coat draped invitingly over the decidedly robust curve of his firm and tempting rump. "Oh," I murmured, smiling my wicked smile, "I do hope so."

Captain Harkness merely grinned at me, kissed my knuckles (how shockingly and wonderfully forward), and straightened up, transferring his gaze to my companion. "And who is this?"

"Jackpot," the servant supplied, heavy brows lowered over eyes even bluer than those of Captain Harkness. The boy still showed a dreadful tendency to be jealous. Ah, well. Sharing is a truly virtuous act, and one day, perhaps Charlie could be persuaded to embrace virtue as well as myself.

"Charles Jackpot," I elaborated, settling my kissed hand on the small of Charlie's back, nudging him forwards. "My manservant. His service has been..." I paused, lowered my eyes for a moment, and allowed a hint of promise to infuse my smile. "Invaluable to me."

Charlie, naturally, preened a little at this. I watched with some amusement as Captain Harkness bestowed the same treatment upon Charlie's hand, and then drew away. "Perhaps, Captain Harkness, you might show us to our quarters?"

Harkness matched my smile for every ounce of wickedness and promise. "Call me Jack, Mr. Box, Mr. Jackpot. You're down on level six. Welcome to Torchwood."

Torchwood. A peculiar name, but not one of much import to me, at that time. I was more preoccupied with the amusing notion of re-enacting a particular children's game. It had been a terribly long time since I had had chance to play with a Jack-in-the-Box.

I wondered if Charlie ever had. If not, he was shortly to gain the opportunity.

**Author's Note:**

> Lucifer Box and Charles Jackpot are the intellectual property of Mark Gatiss, Esq. Jack Harkness belongs to Russell T Davies and the BBC. No profit is being made by the author of this diversion.


End file.
